Worth the Risk
by Dragon Elexus
Summary: Rose is confused why humans bother to have children. Greg tries to explain. She thinks she might finally understand. (One half of a pair of linked pieces, the other being 'Worth a Shot').


_**Author's Note:**_ This is a companion piece to the one-shot, "Worth a Shot", which can be found on my profile. The two can be read in either order. What you can _also_ find on my profile: a link to the Tumblr and AO3 account of the co-author of these two pieces, the wonderful Zombee. If you enjoy this, I suggest checking her out. She came up with the whole idea.

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 **Worth the Risk**

"I'm just so confused."

Greg looked at her, with that familiar, kind patience. It continued to amaze her, how much patience he had for her lack of knowledge. Even during those times, where whatever she failed to understand was apparently so utterly basic for him that he struggled to even put the concepts into words, he was always willing to try and explain for her.

"Yeesh, it's hard to explain," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Rose waited as he considered what to say. "We… humans, that is… we know we're gonna die someday. It's not a question of if, but when."

The concept of human mortality- it still sent shivers through her spine. Or it would, if she had a spine. It was merely a human saying that she'd adopted.

But it was amazing, how unflinchingly casual they can be about this. If she was in their position- if any Gem was- she would be doing anything to postpone the inevitable death. Yet they never seem to evaluate these risks. "But childbirth is one of the most common reasons for human death! I've seen it happen, Greg. Even I could not have saved some of them."

"Yeah, Rose, I know," and again, there was that casualness. Greg frowned, deep in thought, like when he was composing a new song. "But bringing another person into the world… it's about… letting them have a shot to look at this whole mess with fresh eyes. Babies—kids—they're our legacy, but they're also, you know, us. All that will be left when we're dead. So I guess it's… worth the risk."

Fresh eyes.

It's an interesting thought, one that humans consistently seem fond of, no matter the place or century. _Tabula rasa_ , that was another term for it. A blank slate.

It doesn't work like that for Gems. Gems follow a mould, literally. They come out, pre-programmed. Inexperienced, yes, but with knowledge and protocols and rules to draw upon.

Maybe that's why Homeworld turned out the way it did. Nothing ever changed, not really. There was never any innovation. No variation. The exact same thing, century after century, millennia after millennia.

But would any Gem be willing to make that change, if it meant that they might sacrifice their life for it?

Well- she had, hadn't she? All the Crystal Gems had been willing, that was the entire point of the rebellion. And many had made that sacrifice, even if she had been left standing. Surely this isn't all that different, then?

"What about you Greg," she asked.

"What about me?"

"Do you want children?"

It's a question she's never asked before, not once in their entire relationship. She'd always known that offspring is a natural desire, one shared by most, though not all, humans. Despite that knowledge, she'd never even once thought to ask. And of course, Greg never would have brought it up.

"Oh," he said, showing his hesitance, even now. "Uh…"

But he did seem to think about it. Rose could tell. She watched him carefully, trying to make sure she doesn't miss anything. She's misread humans too many times to risk doing so now.

"Yeah. I guess—someday," and it turns that yes, he had wanted them, all this time. Rose wasn't sure whether to be angry at her self, or thankful, or terrified. Before she could even sort those conflicting emotions out, however, Greg was already drawing back. "Maybe. But, Rose, you're all—"

"—that you want. I know." She suppressed a sigh.

"You're all that I need, Rose."

" _You're allowed to have more than tha_ t," Rose wanted to say. " _You're allowed to have your own hopes and cares and desires, beyond me. For once, I could be the one to compromise_."

But she didn't say any of that. She just smiled.

"Besides, who needs a baby when we've got Amethyst?"

The comment is so unexpected that Rose could not help but laugh. Yes, their Amethyst could be very much like a human child.

But she isn't. She never has been. Rose wondered if Greg truly appreciates that.

"That friend of yours. Vidalia," Rose said. "She has a baby, doesn't she?"

"What, you mean Sour Cream?" Greg asked, blinking. He looked briefly confused until understanding dawned. "Yeah, she did. He's not really a baby anymore though. I think he's- ten, maybe? Eight? It's hard to keep track."

Eight, or ten, but not really a baby anymore. Such rapid development is almost incomprehensible.

"Oh? I remember when he'd just been born." Rose recalls the tiny little baby, swaddled in blankets, presented with pride by the young mother to Gems. "Amethyst was so excited; she ran around the Temple for hours talking about it. Now he's grown up so quickly." Soon, he will be an adult; not long after that he will grow old, and die. His mother will do the same, even sooner. "But then, everything seems to go quickly for me."

For us, she thought, and she wondered how Amethyst will take it.

In the face of her contemplation about ephemeral human life, Greg just grinned.

"Eh, I don't think this one is unique to you, Oh _Ancient Alien_ ," he teased. "Kids grow up pretty quickly for us humans, too. One day you're holding them in your arms and teaching them how to walk, next thing you know, they're all grown up and asking for money to go buy a van." He rubbed his neck, looking away. "That's what my Mom always used to say about me, at least."

Greg never talked about his parents much. Rose had always gotten the impressions that there was… tension, between them. She didn't pry, partly because she could tell the topic made him uncomfortable, partly because she suspected she might not understand. She was almost certain of it, in fact. What kind of people, given the gift of parenthood, would not value that gift, allow such a gift to be ruined? Especially when their child was someone as wonderful as Greg Universe.

Greg would never make such a mistake. He would be a wonderful father.

They settled into a silence, Greg's small, soft hand beneath her older, battle-worn one. She stared up at the sky, as if trying to see past the pastel blue and fluffy white clouds to the stars beyond. Homeworld was out there, even if she couldn't see it. They will return one day, no doubt. Who will be here to meet them when they do?

She thought Greg would make a good father, at least. It occurred to her that he might not agree. "So," she said, "Do you think it's worth it?"

"Huh?"

"Children. Do you think they're worth it?"

"Well, I guess that's for everyone to decide for themselves," he said with a shrug, after giving it a little bit of thought. Then he smiled. "But yeah. I do."

Rose Quartz hummed.

A baby. Or a child, rather; they wouldn't be a baby for long. They would grow so quickly, maturing into a human adult in only a handful of decades. But what if they were not just a human adult? Rather, an adult with a human body, a human mind, human thoughts and human morals- but the powers and abilities of a Gem?

A legacy. Her, but not. Someone who could look at this whole mess with fresh eyes.

Yes. That might be worth a shot.


End file.
